


Donuts (And A Promise)

by kuro



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff, M/M, Police, Pre-Slash, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro/pseuds/kuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony only wanted some donuts. Instead he gets his arm stuck in a car door and groped by a police officer. </p><p>Okay, maybe that's not QUITE what happened. </p><p>But there's definitely donuts and police officers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Donuts (And A Promise)

**Author's Note:**

> This is 200% unrealistic, okay. You've been warned.

“Oh come _on_ ,” Tony cursed, alternately pulling and pushing on his arm. “You’ve got to be kidding me. OPEN. UP. DAMMIT.”

He really wasn’t the picture of testosterone-fuelled aggression usually, but he’d had a really shitty day and his mood was currently somewhere between seriously irritated and really pissed. In an (admittedly rather desperate) attempt to cheer himself up, he’d decided to go out and get some donuts. Once he’d acquired the donuts, the plan was to stuff himself with them as much as he possibly could without bursting, crawl into the next corner and stay there for a while in a haze of sugary bliss. It wasn’t the most mature thing to do, but there were definitely worse ways of dealing with bad days.

Tony knew all about worse ways of dealing with bad days.

But fortune was not favouring him today. When he’d left the car to get the donuts from his favourite shop, he had somehow managed to lock his car with the key still inside. And when he had tried to stick his arm through the small gap of the window that he had luckily forgotten to close (or so he’d thought at the time), he’d managed to get his arm stuck in the window.

Brilliant. He was a genius.

Cursing under his breath, he wiggled around like an idiot, trying to get his arm unstuck and avoid dropping the box of donuts he was holding in his other hand.

“Excuse me? Sir?” a voice interrupted Tony in his gymnastic exercise. Tony opened his mouth, ready to say something along the lines of ‘ _Can’t you see I’m busy here?_ ’, maybe with an ‘ _idiot_ ' attached for good measure, when he realised that it was, in fact, a police officer that was standing next to him. And said police officer was definitely _not_ looking at him as if he wanted to ask if Tony needed any help.

Bugger.

“It’s my car, okay?” Tony hissed, still vainly trying to get his arm out of the car window. God, he thought to himself, he must be looking like a complete nutjob of a car thief. “I locked myself out. _Officer_.”

“Sure,” the policeman said in a tone of voice that sounded extremely unconvinced. To add insult to injury, the policeman first looked at the fancy sports car and then gave Tony himself a _very_ judgemental once-over.

Tony was well aware that he looked like a bum right now, with the torn jeans and the rumpled hoodie he was wearing, but give him a break. All he’d wanted was a donut and a dark corner to mope in.

“Well, let’s see about that,” the policeman said, stepping closer. “If you excuse me.”

Tony could now read the name tag: Rogers. Officer Rogers, then. With decreasing distance, Tony also realised that Officer Rogers was, in fact, a very attractive specimen of a police officer. (Though that might be Tony’s slight uniform kink speaking.) Momentarily distracted by his hindbrain going _unf_ , it took him a moment to realise that Officer Rogers was grabbing his butt.

No touching the goods without asking for permission first, okay. No matter how good you look in an uniform.

“Hey!” Tony shouted, trying to wiggle away and failing, because his arm was still stuck in the car window.

“Thank you for you cooperation,” Officer Rogers replied, completely unperturbed, holding up Tony’s wallet. “Well, let’s see…”

He opened the wallet, taking out Tony’s ID. After a moment, he furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Yes, that is really me,” Tony informed him with an exasperated sigh. “And that is really my car. As you can see, my name is on the number plate. From time to time, I actually look like that photo on my ID, I’m just having a really, really bad day today. Can you _please_ help me out here?”

“Well,” Officer Rogers said, looking a little shell-shocked. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Sta-”

“Yeah, yeah, honest mistake, bla bla bla, everything is sunshine and roses,” Tony interrupted him, rolling his eyes. “I’d rather you help a guy out here, _Officer_.”

“Steve Rogers,” Officer Rogers corrected, taking Tony’s arm, giving it a slight twist and pulling it out of the car window as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “Well, there you go.”

Tony wordlessly stared at the man for a few seconds. He had effortlessly managed what Tony had be trying to achieve for what, ten minutes? And _Tony_ was the engineer here.

And he had given Tony his full name and the opportunity to make his life very difficult.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Tony finally said, taking back the wallet Officer Rogers was holding out to him with an apologetic expression. “But I guess you have my gratitude, Officer Rogers. Although you should remember that not everything that looks like a bum _is_ a bum. When they’re rich, we call them eccentric.”

“I thought you said you were simply having a very bad day?” Officer Rogers asked with a small smile. Oh, _sass_. If only Tony had met this guy on a better day. A day when he actually resembled a living human being.

“Same difference,” Tony waved him off, digging around in his sweatshirt until he found his mobile phone. “Rich people never have good days. Have you ever heard them _complain_? No one has worse days than rich people.”

Officer Rogers actually laughed at that, Tony noticed with no small amount of satisfaction. Smiling faintly, he turned away for a moment and dialled Happy’s number.

“Hey, Happy,” he greeted his trusty driver. “Listen, I shut myself out of the car. Mhm. I know. Can you pick it up? No, it’s okay, I’m going to grab a taxi or something. Yup, see you.”

He finished the call and was just on the verge of dismissing Officer Rogers so he could return to controlling his little corner of the asphalt jungle, when he noticed said Officer was squirming as if he wanted to say something. Tony raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I could drive you home if you need a ride?” Officer Rogers suggested a little bashfully.

“In a police car?” Tony couldn’t help but snort. “No thanks. I’m well-acquainted with those and have managed to avoid riding in one lately. It’s a record I’m rather unwilling to break.”

“It’s actually a bike?” Officer Rogers corrected him with a small shrug.

For the second time already, Tony was rendered speechless. That was… Tony lacked the vocabulary to aptly describe what exactly that was.

“You know what?” he eventually managed to say. “Why not. Why not getting myself killed on a police bike. Sounds like an exceptionally good idea today. I’ll even give you a donut. And if you get me killed I give you all of them.” To illustrate his point, he waved the box with donuts he was still holding.

“Oh, that is very tempting, but I couldn’t,” Officer Rogers gave back with a wry smile. “The gratitude of an upstanding citizen is already enough.”

The ride back to the Tower was actually fun and definitely more interesting than usual, despite the fact that Officer Rogers forced him to wear his helmet.

“I don’t want to be held responsible if your valuable brain gets splattered all over the streets,” Officer Rogers had joked, looking a little panicked for a moment before he realised that Tony did, in fact, find that funny.

When Officer Rogers deposited him in front of the Tower, Tony’s mood had greatly improved and he actually found himself a little unwilling to part with this very interesting individual.

Unfortunately, said very interesting individual had a job to do.

“Mr. Star-”

“Tony,” Tony interrupted.

“If you call me Steve,” Officer Rogers shot back immediately. “Don’t think I can’t hear the _Officer_ dripping with sarcasm. Anyway, Tony, I wanted to apologise again. I sometimes have the bad habit of getting ahead of myself, which is really not a habit a police officer should have. I should know better than that.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Tony waved him off again. The blame really lay mostly on Tony’s side (not that he would openly admit that), and he had been rude, as well.

“I think the smelly one here is you,” Steve grinned, starting his bike.

“Hey!” Tony complained. “Don’t you dare run away, I will find you and make you apologise to me. I do NOT smell!”

“Do that!” Steve laughed, already driving off. “You owe me a donut anyway! And you know how police officers are with donuts! I will not forget!”

Tony looked after the departing figure with a smile.

“He _could_ have taken one now,” he mumbled to himself.

Not that he was complaining. Oh no.


End file.
